


dust of the snow, the sun, and the moon.

by dre_amer



Series: the favor :) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bottom Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Comfort, Comforting Technoblade, Dream Just Wants Hugs, Dream Needs A Hug, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Flustered Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I also need help, I'm Bad At Summaries, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Neck Kissing, Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Simp Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Has Braided Hair (Video Blogging RPF), They’re Both Simps, Top Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), i need to sleep, lots and lots of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dre_amer/pseuds/dre_amer
Summary: Dream, on the verge of a breakdown, appears at Techno’s doorstep and pulls in that favor, asking for a friend.Who’s Techno to say no?DISCLAIMER: I’m not shipping the irl people, just the online personas they’ve put out onto the internet — which is why I’ll never refer to them as their real names in my fics (unless, of course, the plot demands).Don’t like? Then don’t read! Neither of these CCs have specifically mentioned or claimed that they’re uncomfortable with shipping, so I’m just going to chill here with my DNB and serotonin.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: the favor :) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098128
Comments: 54
Kudos: 598





	dust of the snow, the sun, and the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> so, just in case you’re confused, this is the alternate ending to my last smut fic (“did I distract you well enough?”). no smut in this one, just kissing and lots of fluff :3 enjoy! 
> 
> p.s. in case you’ve already read my smut fic, the alternate ending starts at this part: “Techno shifts under his tight grip, and Dream pulls away.” :)) i added a little bit of extra stuff in the beginning to make the oneshot feel complete though, so don’t skip that first part completely.  
> now that that’s all over with, have fun reading!! :D 
> 
> (also please dont let this flop and get taken over by the hornies rEAD SOMETHING OTHER THAN SMUT FOR ONCE JEAR DESUS /j /lh

Technoblade isn’t sure what he had been expecting when his doorbell rang while he was chilling while brewing various potions to prepare for the Festival the next day, but he sure as hell hasn’t expected to see the homeless green man he’d bullied a few days ago, hugging himself tightly around his torso and tears leaking from the corners of his green eyes.

Techno opens his mouth to say something, but Dream cuts him off. Perhaps for the best — he wouldn’t have known what to say either way.

“I- I want to call in that — the favor,” Dream stammers, teeth clattering against each other in a chilling symphony. His chest heaves, and Techno’s stunned crimson eyes rake up and down his figure, mentally noting the fact that the dirty blonde only wears his signature lime hoodie and black cargo pants with boots. No mask or armor in sight.

Despite his initial shock, Techno schools his features into nonchalance and raises an eyebrow, locks of rose hair sliding across his broad shoulders. “Well? What do you want from me?”

Dream shudders and curls his arms tighter around himself, a little sob escaping his lips. “A- a friend, comfort, please- _anything_.” Another choked sob tumbles out of his mouth. “Just- make me forget.”

Techno’s mouth falls open, mind racing at the speed of someone who had chugged three Speed 2 potions at once — _Dream_ , the admin of this server, pulling in his favor from the _blood god_ for a _friend_ of all things? — but as time slowly ticks by, as Dream seems to look smaller and smaller, standing there like an abandoned puppy, his shock and apprehension crumbles. A slight ache pulses in Techno’s chest, and then suddenly he’s stepping over his threshold and tugging Dream into his arms, tucking the blonde’s face into the crook of his neck and looping his arms around Dream’s waist that seems much smaller without planes of netherite tied around it.

The blonde man tenses, a little gasp slipping from his lips — as if he hadn’t actually expected Techno to help him — but then in the next second, he’s melting against Techno, winding his arms around the pig hybrid’s neck and body trembling in Techno’s grip with stifled sobs.

They stand there for a long ( _or was it short? Techno can’t tell, because all he can think about is the shaking blonde in his arms_ ) moment, Techno’s chin propped up on Dream’s head and the strands of blonde hair tickling his nose, watching the tiny frozen flakes of snow drift and dance through the windy air. They remind him of something, and it tickles the back of his mind, but he can’t remember quite what. Then, as the cold temperature begins to nip at the tops of Techno’s cheekbones, he gently tugs at Dream’s hoodie, ushering him inside.

The blonde refuses to let go of him, so the two end up doing an awkward shuffle-dance-like thing that ends up in Techno nearly falling flat on his face and his feet hitting Dream’s at least three times, but the pair eventually make it to Techno’s kitchen. The pig hybrid nudges Dream’s back, biting his lip as the blonde flinches away.

“Dream,” he mutters, and then clears his throat awkwardly. The blonde’s face is still tucked into his collarbone, wet tears painting his skin. “Dr-Dream?”

“They blew it up,” comes the green man’s muffled response. He’s still trembling. “They- they blew up the _community house_.” His freezing body shakes in coordination with his sobs. “That was _my_ house, Techno, that was- that was the _first ever_ building to ever exist in the Dream SMP!” His pitch spikes, and Techno can hear the hysteria coming through. He’s familiar with it now, having heard the insanity tip over into his tone right after Tubbo had handed him the disc.

“And now-” Dream lets out a small sound, like a pained whimper. “It’s all gone, Techno.”

Techno can hear the unsaid words hanging in the air — _“I’m homeless, Techno_ _”_ — and something in his chest wrenches painfully. Whatever remaining energy Dream has left seems to have drained away, and the result is the dry, empty husk of the energetic and bouncy man Techno knew and loved.

_Loved?_

Techno decides to skip over the word, instead pouring his attention into the man whose tears are smeared on his collar and whose sobs are wracking through Techno’s heart. He gently pulls away, and as Dream stutters out something illegible but sounds hurt, he grabs the back of the blonde’s thighs and lifts him onto the table, allowing for a more comfortable position.

Dream is clinging to him the entire time, fingers curled into Techno’s white shirt. When the pig hybrid stops shuffling around, he lets his legs hook loosely around Techno’s hips and leans forward, letting his forehead rest against the pinkette’s shoulder. The other’s hands come to rest on his hips, heavy and soothing and grounding, and Dream finally lets out a shaky sigh.

Technoblade’s arms are so warm, so welcoming, and they cage Dream into his own little protective box. The blonde can’t remember the last time he’s felt this safe, the last time he’s felt so _warm_ and loved and-

_Loved?_

Dream decides to ignore the word, instead focusing on how he’s suddenly hyperaware of Techno’s breath hitting his bare neck and how his blunt fingertips are digging into the skin of his hips just enough to leave light marks. His mind drifts, and Dream wonders if there’s another way that Techno can make him forget — one filled with skin sliding against skin, lips mouthing on soft flesh, quiet moans swirling through the air along with whispered promises and profanities. Vulgar words and sweet murmurs sighed against shells of sensitive ears and tongues flicking into shallow grooves of collarbones.

Dream’s breath hitches, and digs his nails into Techno’s shoulders, clearing his throat inconspicuously in hopes that the action will wipe his mind of the filthy things it’s conjured up.

Techno shifts under his tight grip, and Dream pulls away. “Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to- to hold on so tight,” he stammers, but then Techno’s hands flash out and Dream’s wrists are caught in a grip of iron.

“No, no,” Techno murmurs, and he brings Dream’s hands back to where they were before — resting on his shoulders, wrists bending over the curve of his neck. “Keep your hands on me.”

Dream’s face burns, and he’s reminded why exactly he wears that mask: to keep others from seeing his stupidly expressive green eyes and cheeks that flush far too easily. But for some reason, he’s relieved — relieved that he doesn’t have to hide, because he can’t. The mask holds many good memories, and it’s a form of protection against others who wish harm upon him — but it’s also a burden, a responsibility that pushes down on his shoulders like an unshakable weight.

Dream lets out another quivering sigh and leans into Techno’s touch — the pinkette had slid his hand up, and now his fingers are resting on Dream’s cheek, palm cupping his jaw. Techno’s hand is calloused and rough from hours and hours of farming and gripping the hilt of a sword, but his touch is infinitely gentle.

Warmth overwhelms Dream’s body, and for a moment, he feels lighter than ever, like he’s a bird and he’s gliding through the air with the warm wind swishing through his wings while his body remains at Techno’s house, sitting on his kitchen table and tilting his head into the pig hybrid’s impossibly soft hand. There are tears drying on his cheeks, a remainder of his breakdown prior, but they’re brushed away by Techno’s tender fingers.

Dream feels serene and at peace, warmth roiling in his chest and limbs, and the corners of his mouth twitch at the fact that his rival — the one he apparently despises — is the one making him feel like this.

Feeling like he’s floating somewhere in a daze, the dirty blonde dips his head forward, fingers tugging gently at the pig hybrid’s clothing, asking for something he himself doesn’t know.

However, Techno seems to understand, and angles his own face and leans in — and then their lips are meeting each other’s in the middle, slowly moving against each other in an uncoordinated but perfectly matched waltz. The pinkette’s hand has moved, now curled around his nape, and the sensation keeps Dream going as he presses against Techno’s lips more insistently. His arms curl themselves around the pinkette’s neck, pulling him closer and closer until Techno’s practically bent over Dream and their bodies are pressed together from head to toe.

Dream hasn’t kissed anyone in what feels like ages — what probably _has_ been ages — and his body is tense and stiffened, lips frozen, but Techno skilled mouth and gentle, well-placed touches unravel him bit by bit. Techno slowly disentangles the confusing mass of knots that is Dream, steadily peeling back every layer that the blonde has wrapped around himself, gradually breaking down all the walls he’s constructed so carefully around his heart.

Had it been anyone else, Dream would have felt afraid. He would have pulled back, pushed the other away, and fled into the night where he always lurked, unseen and noticed and hated.

But it’s Techno, and Dream can finally let go of everything he’s been holding onto — everything he’s been _forced_ to hold onto — and allow someone else to take control for once.

Shivers ghost their way up and down Dream’s clothed arms, chills rippling out from the points of contact between Dream’s suddenly heated skin and Techno’s light, fluttering touch. They part, both panting slightly. Dream’s eyes are unfocused, mind still drifting in that floaty mindset, and there’s a faint grin playing on Techno’s mouth. His lips are softer than Dream had expected.

“What’re you smiling at,” Dream mumbles, trying to sound vexed but in reality loving the slight tilt of Techno’s usually downturned mouth. The pinkette looks so _soft_ and Dream can’t help but gaze up at him, a little awestruck, as if he were a god — a god of beauty and love, instead of the destruction and blood and chaos he’s known for to all the others.

The answer Dream has been waiting for but not expecting quietly slips out of Techno’s mouth, whispered but deafening in his ears, like that silent promise he’d made to Dream when the blade of his sword had sliced through the blonde’s mask during their duel and tore away the only form of protection Dream had.

“Just you,” Techno says, and the words are like a little individual sigh, blowing and pressing against Dream’s lips.

Even as the blonde tries to smile teasingly and play it all off as something minor, he knows Techno has now stripped away all of his defenses, all of his walls and barriers, and now Dream is as bare as if he were physically naked.

Quite strangely, the blonde can’t bring himself to care, and simply loses himself in a neverending expanse of big, warm hands and tender lips, rosy pink hair scattering like petals and framing both of their faces. During the few times Dream’s eyes drift open, unfairly long eyelashes fluttering and brushing the skin below his eyes, he catches sight of Techno’s perfect face and warm cerise eyes and falls further, deeper down, unil he’s so far gone he can’t claw his way back like all the times he’s done before. 

His eyes slide closed again. 

* * *

The next time Dream opens his eyes, fully conscious, is during the middle of the night. He’s lying on a bed — how long has it been since he’s slept on a real bed? — and there are limbs curled around his body, one muscular arm thrown over his waist and the other limp under his neck, supporting his head. Gentle breaths sift through the flaxen strands of Dream’s woven gold hair, and he can feel the slight breezes brushing across the back of his neck. 

Something tickles Dream’s cheek, and without looking, the blonde knows it’s a strand or two or Techno’s long, rose-colored hair. Everything seems frozen in time, motionless and silent as the world itself holds its breath to peer down at the two lying in bed, one fully awake with his heart pounding in his ears and the other buried deep in his dreams (pun intended, now enjoy it). 

A slight beam of moonlight shines through the slanted window, the glass letting the light in without distorting it much, and Dream follows the trail of the light with his eyes. He twists in Techno’s arms, shifting and moving as carefully as he can until he’s facing Techno — and his breath hitches. 

Dream has never truly appreciated how beautiful the blood god looks under the pale, wan moonlight that paints shadows across Techno’s sharp features and highlights the elegant outline of his high cheekbones, the same moonshine that throws everything — his features, his expressions — off proportion and makes Technoblade seem even less human than before. 

_‘Good,’_ Dream thinks distractedly. He raises his hand without thinking, and his fingers brush across Techno’s cheek. The skin under his touch is cool and smooth. _‘He never was one anyway.’_

The pig hybrid shifts under Dream’s delicate touch, scarlet eyes falling open to stare dazedly at Dream. The color of the blood red irides aren’t so shocking under the moonlight — the wisps of the silver light has dulled and brightened them at the same time. That is the beauty of moonlight, Dream supposes. It is rarer than the sunlight, and yet it shines light upon the lesser seen qualities of others — that is an important thing. 

Dream’s mind supplies him with these words as he looks at Techno through half-lidded eyes and takes in the sight in front of him. The pinkette looks like a dream, and Dream knows it’s a shame to compare Techno to something as simple as that — but it’s so very fitting. 

Dream exhales softly, breath caressing Techno’s nose and lips as his fingers come to a rest on his cheek. They remain there, a slight sensation that sends ripples of warmth gently swirling through Techno’s body. 

“Are you a god?” The words tumble out from Dream’s lips, and he holds his breath. It is a foolish question, they both know — but Dream still wants to hear the answer. 

Technoblade just stares at Dream, heavy-lidded and silver-tinted crimson gazing into tired deep emerald — no, forest-green, he decides, for Dream’s eyes are too expressive, too lively to be described as none other than a living thing — and the silence hangs between them, tense words and actions dangling on a thin, fragile thread that could be snapped at any moment. 

“No,” Techno finally murmurs, and Dream lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“What a surprise,” Dream drawls, drawing a line from the top of Techno’s cheekbone to the corner of his lip with his dainty touch. “You’re ethereal enough to be one.” 

A snort escapes the pinkette. “I’m the English major here, and I don’t even use the word ‘ethereal.’” 

A grin dances on Dream’s surprisingly full lips, and Techno wants to taste it — feel the flavor of Dream’s delight and happiness on his tongue and in his mouth — and so he does. 

Dream gasps, like he hasn’t expected the sudden kiss, but he regains his posture in a moment and kisses back, looping his arms around Techno’s neck and pulling him down further and closer. He loves the way Techno kisses, he’s familiar with it now — the way he softly exhales through his nose, the way he curls his hand around the back of Dream’s head and nape, the way all of his focus and concentration is poured into this moment, into _Dream_. 

Techno’s lips eventually fall away, and instead reappear on Dream’s jaw, placing light butterfly kisses along the blonde’s sharp jawline. Dream sighs and presses his cheek into Techno’s wonderfully soft hair, inhaling deeply — Techno’s hair smells good, like strawberries and chaos. 

“Are you sniffing my hair?” Techno’s muffled voice has amusement slipped under the deep baritone, and Dream flushes, slapping his shoulder lightly. 

Techno laughs, and it’s not that wonderful little cackle Dream has been drawn to for the longest time — it’s quieter, more gentle in the way the sound brushes across Dream’s ears. Techno lowers himself back down and resumes his ministrations of leaving trailing kisses down Dream’s neck. “Don’t worry,” he mumbles between pecks. “I know my hair smells good.” 

Dream scoffs, but still clings to Techno, a relieved feeling settling in his chest. He tries to seem casual when he throws a leg over Techno’s hip, but he’s pretty sure the pig hybrid can hear his heart hammering in his chest. Techno’s lips twist into a smirk against his neck, and Dream hits him not-so-gently on the shoulder once again. 

“Ow,” Techno breathes, but his words hold no actual hurt, and the point of his sharp, regal nose nudges the space behind Dream’s ear. 

The blonde lets out a sigh that’s filled with something that sounds close to content, letting his forearms rest loosely on Techno’s shoulders. He takes a bit of hair and starts braiding, pulling back the pink strands that fall into their eyes and pool on Dream’s cheeks. It’s a slow, methodical thing — he messes up once or twice, it’s hard to braid at this angle — but when he’s done, his neck is covered in marks and the very front locks of Techno’s hair are braided, pulled back into the rest of his hair. Dream likes this hairstyle the most on Techno. 

The pinkette’s lips twitch, and then Techno is giving him the softest smile Dream’s ever seen on someone’s face directed at _him_. It’s sculpted from tenderness and painted with something that looks and feels like love, and Techno’s expression looks even lighter under the silver droplets of the moon.

 _Not droplets_ , Dream thinks. The moonlight is more of a dust, beautiful and unnoticeable specks of sterling drifting and dancing through the still air like rose petals, and the moon brushes her luminous powder onto Techno’s perfect features. Dream feels an inexplicable burning at the back of his nose. 

A smile, rough and ragged at the edges but mirroring Techno’s in warmth, tilts the edges of his own mouth. The moon does not care to smear the same light onto his features and soften the broken edges of his own lips the way she does to Techno, and Dream hopes the other does not mind. 

He knows Techno doesn’t when the pig hybrid lowers himself onto his side, pulls Dream flush against his body, brushes a stray lock of woven filigree behind the curve of Dream’s ear. He whispers something in the blonde’s ear, and the words seep into his skin and soul like melted rubies and soft, moldable gold. 

Dream falls asleep in between Techno’s arms, the thought of shining jars of glittering moondust filling his mind as he dreams. 

If Dream’s footsteps are lighter the next day, his grin behind his smiling mask genuine, if all he can think of is warm crimson eyes and sculpted lips — both tinted with a glide of silver — and his fingers linger with the sensation of silky pink locks woven through them; well, no one has to know, do they? 

Techno finally remembers what he had been thinking about when he’d first hugged Dream at his doorstep, gazing at the snow while something tickled at the back of his mind. 

The answer had, ironically, come to him in his dreams. 

The snowflakes, they remind Techno of sunlight — the aureate flecks of molten gold drifting and dancing through the air, finally coming to settle on the bare cheekbones of Dream, scattering on his skin and hiding amongst his freckles. 

Techno thinks it’s unfair how, during the day when sunlight reigns supreme, Dream’s beautiful face is covered by his mask, and the only time he really gets to see Dream bare is during the night, where the cool, gentle shine of the moon takes over. He wishes to see Dream — just once — in the warm, sparkling light of the sun, with his mask off and forest eyes glittering, and his wish comes true this day.

The pinkette reaches out, traces a finger across Dream’s cheek, and almost expects to find shimmering golden powder clinging to the tip of his finger when he pulls away. Techno finds none, though, when he inspects the pad of his finger. 

Dream is eyeing him with amusement and mild confusion, deep forest-green eyes peering up at him. The sunlight dapples Dream’s irides and creates ravines in the shadows of the blonde’s visible dimples, Techno notices. It’s beautiful — _Dream’s_ beautiful. 

Techno tells him so, and relishes in the way the dirty blonde’s cheeks stain a pretty scarlet, like his own dark cerise eyes. 

The pig hybrid expects a snarky comeback, a defensive line that throws the attention off of him — but all Dream gives him is a shy smile dipped in goldenrod dust and a quiet “Thank you” that Techno is completely sure has been drenched in honey. How else would the two simple words be so sweet he can taste it on his tongue?

Perhaps the moon does not care about Dream and instead turns her attention to Technoblade, meticulously placing every speck of silvery powder on his supposedly otherworldly features — but the sun certainly does, and shines all of her glory and warmth onto Dream and his perfect face in the form of scattered golden dust, floating down in the air but always somehow landing on Dream’s freckled cheeks. 

Techno thanks the snow for reminding him — the frozen flecks of white that had sparked his memory in the first place — and props his chin on Dream’s head of spun gold, tilts his own head, and lets his eyes slide closed. 

**Author's Note:**

> sooOooOooOOo how did we like this ending ::::) 
> 
> tbh this was really really fun to write — descriptive words are amazing, but i’m afraid i had to sacrifice dialogue for it :pensive: i suck literal ass at dialogue pLS 
> 
> aaaaaanyway, i hope that oneshot felt cohesive and made actual sense ahsjdjsja the overall theme, as says in the title, as supposed to be about the snow, moonlight, and sunlight :>  
> i repeatedly used the phrase “drifting and dancing” to try and hint at the theme hhhhh was it good??? i just kinda. decided to add it in there during the middle LOL
> 
> anyways remember to leave comments loves <33 they fuel me to write faster and better heh  
> also, if you see any grammar mistakes or anything else, then feel free to comment them! and, ofc, your opinions on this work and what you might like to see in the future are vv helpful too :3 
> 
> remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourselves and see you all later!!
> 
> PPSPPSPSPSPPSPS if you liked the story, consider joining the DNB discord server?? pls i need the clout i will fall to my knees and lick your already shiny boots give me the clout nom nom  
> here’s the link btw heh <3 (it expires in 24 hours, so if you want to join after that, ask me in the comments or wait until my next sfw fic — that i don’t know when i’ll post heh)  
> https://discord.gg/DcjWQ7dNej  
> i would love to see you there *wiggles eyebrows*


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